


But We ARE Celebrities

by CharrAnn



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: M/M, Waycest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharrAnn/pseuds/CharrAnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Way brothers never had an easy life...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chp. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one's about Waycest
> 
> Warning: Many triggering thoughts
> 
> Warning: Incest
> 
> Warning: Mikey and Gerard Way
> 
> Enjoy!!

Things just _weren't_ the same after our grandmother died. _Elena,_ that was her name, _Elena._ She always said it though in such a way that the beginning had an "h" sound. So that's what we called her, _Helena._

In every interview, every question, every answer, she appeared. I suppose it was because of the _influence_ she had  put upon us. _Beautiful,_ that is what "Helena" meant. Named upon the Queen of Troy, herself. _She_ was also the reason both _he_ , and I, were alive.

No, I do not hate her for _this_ , and _God_ knows, I could _never_ hate _him._ Oh, but how I've tried. In fact, it was _her_ death that had truly made us like _this._ Once, in a place that doesn't even seem real anymore, we were brothers. Not musicians. Not  artists. Not lovers. Just brothers.

Growing up, I never gave a damn about _him_. At least, not until Helena came to us. She _forced_ us to care, to _love_ , one another. After that, we had _changed_. We did become _more_ on multiple levels, and had _always_ had _thoughts, "ideas,"_ if you will. Something that we could _never_ admit to another, for it was _wrong._ We grew up in a strictly Catholic, Irish-Italian family. For thoughts like _ours,_ Hell was in order.

Yet, whenever something tragic ever happened, everything changed. The first example of _this_ was a true, American tragedy. The attacks of 9/11.


	2. Chp. 2

At that moment in time, I was a cartoonist, drawing for corporations, such as _Cartoon Network_. My "place of work" happened to be in one of the Twin Towers. For some reason, I felt like not working, which was somewhat normal. So I called in "sick," and went to _Starbucks._ While sitting outside in plain view of my workplace, I began to draw. Then, looking up for inspiration, I saw _it._ What seemed to be a dream, yet more real than thought possible.

I stood there and watched the whole thing. I began crying, and with each tear, a thought came to mind, Yet, strangely, it was a repeating thought. The only thought I could think of was of _him._ Not anyone else. Not my co-workers, not my friends, not my other family, not even my own life. Only _him._

I got on the ferry to go home. I was living in Hobboken, NJ, at the time. Funny almost, a 24-year-old who went to "art school," worked for _CN_ , lived with his parents, and had a one-sided incestuous relationship with his little brother. The apartment we all lived in was quiet. Yet, if you listened closely, you could hear the cries for lost ones; the loss of all hope. One of the loudest cries happened to be coming from _our_ room.

_He_ was in there, sitting on _my_ bed, drowning his sorrows in my blankets, clinging to my dirty clothes. _My baby brother. My Mikey._ On his bed sat our mother, _Donna_ , a name that described her perfectly, _woman._ They hadn't heard me come in, and who could blame them. Our father was upstairs, taking a bath, I believe. He was never a man of emotion. I was about to go upstairs, to tell them the "good news," when I overheard a part of their conversation.

"I loved him...." Mikey sat on my bed in shock, our Mother trying to comfort him.

"We _all_ did, hun. _We all did_."

A sudden burst of emotion came to him at once. "No, Mom, I _loved_ him."

A look of horror washed over her face, as if she was desperate for _any_ other meaning. Something _correct_ in the eyes of _God_. "I-I'm not sure what you me--"

It was now anger that washed over him as he immediately cut her off, screaming "Sexually! Okay!? I loved him sexual--"

It was now my turn to step in. Even though I wanted to rejoice in happiness, I still had to wave off our mother. "Mikey, stop." It was all I needed to say to get their attention.

I loved the expression his face gave, his eyes mainly. Usually a hazel color with tints of a vibrant green that was unlike any other mixed with an amber that beat out the sun, they had now been stained the brown of pure melancholy, with big red bags of puffiness under his eyes, stating infinite sadness. I can not describe to you the beauty his face produced when he saw me, but his eyes. They were the best part. The only description I am able to give can never, ever, cop up to the perfection of it. All I am able to say is that his eyes "lit up;" the unremarkable green and able tints returned to his eyes, as if he had seen "the light" that so many speak of. But this was not a religious awakening, it was only me. "Gee, you're alive!?" He yelled, as if it was a question.

Our Mother just sat there, wide eyed. Without a work, she got up, looked at us, and walked away. We didn't see her until the next afternoon.

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**Hi! I actually updated! Isn't it great? No? Oh, sorry....**

**Thanks for reading, I guess....**

**Love you all,**

**< 3 Charr**


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as our mother left, the air became less tense. Something had happened between us. Something that _I_ will never fully understand. Immediately, _he_ ran up and hugged me. I just stood there, sort of. Admittedly, I did get a little "stiff," but as far as I know, he never noticed. However, he did notice that I, his brother, his best friend in the world, his "unrequited" lover, was not hugging him back and was in fact brushing him off, he spoke up.

"I _know_ you heard me and Mom's conversation, but I also know that even if you don't _love_ me _that_ way, you still love me. Plus, in case you haven't _noticed_ , you should be _dead_ , and I put myself through _Hell_ thinking that you were. So please, can you just hug me back? If not for me, but for my sanity. I just need to know that you're _really_ here. _Please._ "

Even _I_ could never live up to the monster _they_ make me out to be. Even I, the great Gerard Way, known throughout Hell and back, could never turn down someone who looked so weak, so helpless. I made him that way, so how could I just turn him down? I couldn't; but that's what started the end for us. Just a hug sealed out fate. It wasn't a hug as _brothers_ that made us this way. It was a hug between _lovers_. A moment that _I_ was completely unsuspecting of.

I remember that first moment. He was looking at me. His face, pure Ecstasy. To this day, I am not sure whether he was looking up or down. You see, usually he was the taller one, but somehow, in this seeming alternate universe, _I_ had taken the "male lead." It even seemed as if _his_ head was nuzzled in _my_ chest, under _my_ chin.

I'm not sure if I had _always_ felt _that way_ towards my brother; even today, I am not sure if I still feel _that way._ Perhaps, it was just a "passing moment," "something to get caught in," "an act of lust," the excuses could go on for what seemed like forever. Yet, even with every _excuse_ , there was always the possibility of it being none of these. Perhaps, it was truly _love_. Now, any _normal_ person would never admit that, but, as we all know, I am not _normal_. I am Gerard, the monster, the musician, a man with no moral, and _I_ have no problem admitting these things. The second he looked up at me, I knew that _I truly did love_ _him_ , and that _this_ , well, _this was right_.

For the first time, we kissed, but as more of a test. A test that we both, proudly, passed. I suppose it made sense, the way things happened. The "stronger," _older_ brother, _sworn to protect his younger_ _brother at all costs_ , assuming the lead, while the slightly feminine, skinnier, "weaker", younger _ironically_ plays the victim. The roles, tapped into immediately, made perfect sense. It was rather easy, _natural_ ; but isn't everything that way with the one you love? It was, _however_ , also very forceful. I still wonder how no one had heard us, what with Mikey's screaming, and all.

I looked into his eyes. There was always a myth that when someone was sexually lusting another that they were with, that their eyes would turn green. I can now vouch for this myth, for I have seen it myself. Yet, even with the lust so clear in his eyes, you could still see how truly _innocent_ he was, so _pure_. Mikey was still a _virgin_.

_This is gonna be fun_ , I thought, as a dark grin pulled itself over my face. "If it hurts, just tell me. I'll stop, okay?" I knew in fact, though, that he wouldn't speak up. You see, Mikey was sort of a...well, a masochist. He wasn't hesitant to lie about it, either.

"O-okay, I'll tell you." He gulped at the end of his sentence. This was a good sign.

"Good."

Right after the short conversation, I immediately threw him against a wall. _That had to hurt._ I was against him, rubbing against the wall. I, once again, looked straight at him. I was only in my Levi's now, and he was wearing one of _my_ oversized shirts with a pair of tight, short shorts. This, of course, only made him look more innocent.

As I began to take off his shirt, I paused for a second. "What's wrong?" He asked. "Is there something wrong with me?"

Part of me believes it was the way he sounded, so _insecure_ , but maybe it was the light. Either way, he looked more feminine then I had ever seen him. Almost like a _real girl_. This made me even more protective. All I wanted, _and still want_ , in the world was for him to feel _accepted_. But that question, it _killed_ me. "You know I _love_ you, right?"

He looked at me, confused. "O-of course, Gee. _We_ wouldn't be _here_ if you didn't." _Oh, wouldn't_ we....The thought was shameful, but perhaps true.

With that, I took off his shirt. He was _skinny_ , but in a good way. The way that said 'hey, I take care of myself, I'm just not _buff_.' It would be less fun if he was buff. The rest of the night set off in flames. To this day, that night was either the _best_ , or _worst_ , night of what _was_ my _entire life_.

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**Hi guys.**

**What do ya'll think?**

**I'm still a little uncomfortable, but I think I'm getting into the hang of this!**

**I don't know.**

**Love you all!**

**< 3 Charr**

 


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up in Mikey's bed; only he wasn't _Mikey_ anymore. _Mikey_ was pure, innocent, a virgin, _and I ruined it._ _I_ ripped the pureness right out of him, and he was _fine_ with it. _Fine_ with _us_.

It was a deal that I had made with him that truly effected me the most. Before things were "flamed," soon after hos shirt came off, I made a forsaken deal. No, not just one, but three. The first was with God, to whom I had asked to not blame Mikey; for I had tempted Mikey, and had brought him to the shameful level of which I stay. I had led him astray from the path of the faithful lamb, and that was wrong. _This was my fault._ The second deal, I had made with Lucifer. Of him, I had asked that Mikey's soul stay out of Sin's grip forever, and that it should be safe, and forever joyous, avoiding Hell. For this, I exchanged my own soul. Since then, my fate was sealed. Doomed to be part of an endless cycle, to burn in the deepest parts of Hell.

The last was with _him_. "Mikey, no." I looked him straight in the eyes. "You don't need to do this." His was looked contorted. True heartbreak. "You're still _pure_. This is _wrong_. I'm sorry." I tried to walk away, but he grabbed mem unexpectedly.

"I don't care, Gee! I want you...I want to be with you." This was the most serious I had ever seen my little brother. I almost wish that he was always like that when I was around, but, alas, not all wishes come true.

"Fine, but if you truly want _this_ , want _us_ , to happen, will you make the ultimate sacrifice?"

Almost expecting a "no," I turned away. _This was never meant to be._ He grabbed my face and pulled it towards his own. He stared at me with his gorgeous, amber eyes. "To you more than _anyone_ , even _God_."

With that, the tree deals were completed. The tree deals that have bounded me forever. Three deals that have kept him safe, and have destroyed my soul. Three deals that I sorrowfully _regret_.

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**Hi guys!**

**I updated!**

**This chp is kind of short...also kind of boring...man, I suck.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Love you all,**

**< 3 Charr**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just to warn you AGAIN, none of this happened. Things may get a little dramatic and not match up to the events they are based off of in real life, but that's kind of the point. It's fanfiction! None of this is supposed to be real! So it should go without saying that I can do whatever the fuck I want with the characters. Thanks for reading and understanding! By the way, this message just means that the events will not match up to events in real life perfectly. This is not a full AU, only a partial, AND IN NO WAY WILL THERE BE MAGIC AND RIDICULOUS THINGS LIKE THAT. With that in mind, here is the story!

A month later, with innocence long forgotten, we had started a band. We called ourselves  _My Chemical Romance._ Mikey came up with it. He "spotted" it in an Irvine Welsh book, _Ecstasy: The Three Tales of Chemical Romance_. He claimed the name just "jumped" out at him. Whatever _his_ motives were, the name made perfect sense to me. I was taking a lot of pills then, not quite at the point of addiction, but to where it led to other drug usage. So, yes, I suppose it _eventually_ did turn into addiction.

The bands original line up was Mikey (bass), a young boy by the name of Frank Iero (rhythm guitar), an old friend of Mikey's named Ray Toro (lead guitar), and an old high school friend by the name of Matt Pelissier (drums). Soon after we left the basement and hit the world, _fame_ became our goal.

The extremely underground _Eyeball Records_ produced our first record. The tales of love, lust, life, death, trust, suicide, and the star-crossed. _I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love_. Our first single, "Skylines and Turnstiles," was one of our more radio popular songs. Of course, that is why it is called a single. I wrote the song on the day of 9/12. Contradictory to popular belief, the song was _not_ written about the Twin Towers. Instead, I wrote it about the night my life _began_ , _a night that would never end_ , between two star-crosses lovers. _Two star-crossed brothers...._

I had quit my job at the _Cartoon Network_. I had thought, 'why work for giant, money-grubbing corporations when I can just chill in a band with my friends? With my _brother_?' It's not like it made a difference, anyways. My workplace was _destroyed_. It wasn't like they were going to rebuild the Towers. That'd be ridiculous.

As we began touring 'round the U.S., I began taking more pills. _Xanax,_ for the most part, mixed with "other" over-the-counter products. We all began to change. Frankie, the cute young boy (not even two months younger than Mikey, but still) had become less chivalrous and more sex driven...for me. Matt would act as if he was hiding something. Ray had become more agitated. Mikey, poor dearest Mikey, had become a "heavy drinker." Now, I had, and still have, no room to talk. I, myself, was an alcoholic. Mikey, however not yet an alcoholic, was leading himself into a dark path. He had always been a light-weight when it came to alcohol, so you can imagine my distress when he went "dark."

That is what we called it, "going dark." We had coined the phrase from another Irvine Welsh book, _Trainspotting_. Only, as far as we knew, it wasn't shooting up that made Mikey "go dark." We all assumed it was the alcohol.

Watching and praying were the only things we could do when this happened. We knew it was better for the band that way. You see, Mikey began drinking due to the fact that he was _petrified_ on stage. Going dark was really the only way for him to get over his stage fright.

I felt horrible. It was my fault. I did that to him. It didn't really sink in, however, until it got to the point where I could watch him down seven beers in only five minutes. I was watching my brother kill himself, _and I liked it_. He became less innocent, less questioning, and more... _dark minded_.

He had become _demanding_. Always getting what he wanted when he wanted it. For the most part, _he wanted me._ I did _not_ care that it was wrong, because in many ways, it was right. Why shouldn't two people who are in _love_ be together? In _what_ way is that _wrong_? It was _not_ wrong that we were two _men_. It was _not_ wrong that we were _family_ , let alone _brothers_. And it was, sure as Hell, _NOT_ wrong that _our_ band mates, _our_ friends, and _our_ family covered us up by sacrificing themselves to more inappropriate doing! Even if it _was_ wrong, that did _not_ matter! All that mattered was that _I_ was happy! Sadly, in 2005, I realized that he felt the same about his _own_ happiness.

I found this out when we (the band) went to Warped Tour '05, with the newly famous _Fall Out Boy_. I had noticed that the bassist, Pete Wentz, had become _close_ to Mikey. _Too close._ I was no longer the only man in Mikey's life, but then again, I never really was. I had finally became the only thing in his life, even getting rid of Matt because of their _closeness_ , and now I had new competition. Even worse, my competition was a _bassist_ , someone Mikey could reach common ground with. Then again, Pete shared _nothing_ with the _real_ Mikey. Only the _new_ one. The _drunk, sloppy, cold, rude, horrible, tasteless asshole_ I had created. The _drunk, sloppy, cold, rude, horrible, tasteless asshole_ that I wanted.

It was funny. I never really confronted him about Pete. I just could tell. I also could tell that any love they had for one another was doomed to the tombstones as long as I was alive. So, I got high with Frank.

It was with Frank I realized Mikey's relationship was my fault. He noticed I was hungover one day, and it led to the conversation that brought my sudden realization.

"Hey, man!" He wore baggy cargo pants, a rare sight for Frank Iero to be seen in. "You know the perfect cure for a hangover?"

The question bothered me. There could be many answers. "No, what?"

"WEED!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. The kid was always as high as a kite, back in the day.

"I'm not really in the mood, Frankie. I'm sorry."

"No problem, man. Mikey got you down again?"

"Nah and yeah," I said, leaning my head on his shoulder, "it's that fuckin' Pete character."

Frankie looked at me, almost sad. "I hate to say this, but I think Karma made you her bitch."

I was off thrown by the sentence. "What the fuck does that mean!?"

"This is _revenge_ for betraying Mikey with _Bert_."

That is when it all came crashing down on me.

It all truley started in 2003 when I met Bert McCraken.

When our first tour with _The Used_ began.


	6. Chapter 6

The year was 2003. The summer had just began, I think. Mikey had started "dating" Matt. _He_ was still a _slut_ though. At least, for me. Frank was, as usual, high as fuck. Ray was high as fuck, unfortunately he also got drunk. I'm still not sure where Matt was, besides when he was with Mikey. He always had a habit of slipping out of my mind; I'm shocked that he still holds it. I was...well, I'm not sure about where I was either. Most likely, _drunk_. Maybe I was getting stoned with Frank and Ray. Who knows? Sure as Hell, not me. I was _over medicated_. I didn't care where I was. All I wanted was to be high as a kite. I felt like it was the only way I wouldn't get hurt. I didn't want to feel the pain of life. Sadly, this made it so that I was _neglectful_. Neglectful of my friends, my family, myself, and worst of all, I was neglectful to _Mikey_. I just didn't want to get hurt. _I never thought I'd hurt him_.

It started when our "manager," Brian, came to Mikey's apartment, which I, at the time, was crashing at. I remember Brian's face when he first came in, not even bothering to knock. He was ecstatic, like a puppy.

"I've got some _great_ news!" He yelled, surly waking every one of our neighbors up.

"What?" I was extremely annoyed with the puppy faced man. I had every right to be. Not only did he let himself in, but he also woke me up. In all honesty, part of the annoyance I had for the man was due to the fact that I had not yet taken my "overdose" of Xanax yet.

"Sorry about him," Mikey tried to comfort Brian's feelings. "We got hammered last night. Well... _he_ got hammered. I'm perfectly fine.

"Last night?" I asked like an idiot. "I don't remember that. _We didn't._.." I wanted to ask so bad whether we had a "good night" or not. Almost telepathically, he looked at me, his expression was full of hurt. _We did_.... I felt bad for not remembering the night before, but it happens. It's not like my mind is able to remember everything. Even now, in it's perfect state, it is not able to remember certain things.

"Okay... _anyways_ ," Brian broke the awkward silence with an even more awkward sentence, "I got a tour for you guys. _A real tour_. With...wait for it... _THE USED_!"

" _The Used_! Holy fuck, I love them!" Mikey screamed ecstatically, almost matching Brian.

Me being me, I could never let a good thing just be a good thing. I wanted to start a fight. Brian realized this and left immediately. He didn't close the door behind him....

"What's your problem?!" Mikey glared me down. "All I did was say I loved a band."

"Yeah, but you said the same thing about Matt, too"

"What the fuck does that mean?" He feigned confusion.

"Hmm, I don't know, Mikes. What do I mean? Oh! That's right! Last time you said you loved something, you ended up sleeping with that something, and that 'something' just happened to end up being my God damned  _best friend_!"

Silence filled the air after my upheaval. Quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the surreal moment, he spoke. "Y-you know about Matt?"

I looked away from his eyes. Dear God, the thought of them looking so sad had always haunted me. "Yeah, Mikes. We _all_ know about Matt and you. Frank figured it out from Day 1." My voice grew quiet.

"Gee, it's...it's not like that. It's not like I _love_ him. He's just..."

"He's just what?"

" _Acceptable._ I mean, Gee, you know you're the only _Way_ for me!" He used a pun. _A pun._ All of the love I have given him was the equivalent of a pun.

I was sickened. He basically _destroyed_ not only our name, but the love I had for him. I still can't figure out what in God's name he was thinking when he said it. All I was to him was a pun. "You have a disgusting sense of humor, and the fact that you can be with a man that you don't even love is even worse. I'm done with your shit, Mikey. Then again, I shouldn't have been dealing with it in the first place."

I walked out. It was something I had always done when not wanting to deal with something, especially something that was emotionally tiring. I did not care to see the expression on his face as I left. It would only hurt me more. Once again, I only thought of myself. In some way though, it wasn't only of myself. I didn't want him to see me cry. I remember my thought process clearly. _Don't let him see you cry, Gerard. He can never see you cry._ As these thought ran through my head, I walked into the kitchen. I grabbed paper and a pen. In my sketch book, a sharpener was found. I walked into my bathroom once I grabbed everything I saw fit. By the end of the night, my sharpener was broken. Even now, some art is still visible.

I hadn't even _imagined_ what I had done to him. In reality, he was as sad as I; but in my mind he was happy. Yes, _happy_. Happy that his _older brother_ , his "best friend in the world," his "Way," his "Gee," was in a bathroom, almost killing himself from blood loss. A part of me knew this wasn't true. It knew that Mikey cared. That Mikey would always care. Unfortunately, that was the part I wouldn't listen to. _His part_. As far as I was concerned, that part of me was, and still is, _dead_ _to me_.

The next day we met up with, for the first time,  _The Used._ Mikey didn't look well. Scratch that. He looked terrible. He, who was usually fashionable, hadn't even brushed his hair. This did not matter to me, however, because it was then I met the wildest man I had ever even seen. _Bert McCracken_.

He was an _odd_ looking man. You could tell that he hadn't taken a shower in _at least_ a week. Yet, he was very _intriguing_. _Sexy,_ in some ways. We instantly hit it off. We liked _a lot_ of the same things, and, after all, he was a _singer_. Something that _Mikey_ could _never_ be.

Three days later we had our first kiss, and it was terribly amazing.  It was right after our first show together.  Bert was beyond sweaty, yet the sweat only increased his strange attractiveness.  "You guys rocked it out there!" He yelled enthusiastically.

I blushed immediately. "Not nearly as good as you," was all my embarrassingly cracked voice could say.

"Nonsense.  You fuckin' _killed_ 'em!"  He gave my body a look over, Heaven knows why.  "Hm...you wanna go grab a beer?"

"Fuck yeah!"  What was I supposed to say?  Part of me wanted him, and my _little brother_ had a 'boyfriend.'

When Bert said 'grab a beer,' I expected one.  What he should had said was 'pounded,' because he drank more that I humanly thought possible.  The worst part was that he was sober the whole time.

It was silly, really.  Neither of us really 'made a move,' yet both of us had.  We sat in a dimly lit dressing room.  He was shirtless, which, at the time, was relatively normal.  "Ya know, I was thinking..."

He seemed to stop right there, not wanting to go any further into that thought,  I, being dubbed the ' _queen of sass,'_ decided to make a comment.  "That's odd..."

"What?"

"I din't think you was capable of thinkin'."  I hadn't realized it at the time, but my speech had become incredibly slurred.

"You're drunk."

"No!  I'm completely _sober_!" I raised my voice, trying to cover my shame, as if he couldn't already tell.

"Okay, if you ain't drunk, then how do I look?"

It always was when I was drunk that I let out my _true_ opinions on things, _especially men_.  "You actually look very sexy tonight."

"See, I told you that you're drunk."

"No! I've been thinkin' about it 'lot lately.  You're pretty handsome.  Maybe a little awkward, but so am I.  You also could take a few more showers, _but other than that, you're a bisexual's dream._ "

He looked at me with the tiniest hint of curiosity.  "Are you 'bi', Gerard?"

I was almost afraid to answer.  Bert was a scary man sometimes.  "Y-yeah..."

He smiled at me.  "So am _I_ your dream, Gerard, or perhaps, maybe, this is _mine._ "  With that we kissed.

I was shocked at how _wrong_ it felt.  No, not _wrong_ like Mikey's kiss, but _wrong_ as in _dis-pleasurable_.  The thought of Mikey being the only _"Way"_ for me crossed my mind a thousand times.  I wasn't doing it for me, though.  I had come to the conclusion that _I_ didn't matter, not even in my own "sex life."  Bert didn't matter either, despite his selfish thoughts.  This was about _Mikey_.  _He needed to be punished._ For one should not go around breaking others hearts.

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**Hey guys! Sorry it took soooo long to update! The story is getting more...DRAMATIC!**

**Seriously, though, I am sorry.**

**Love ya all,**

**< 3 Charr**

 


	7. Chapter 7

Soon My Chemical Romance's tour with The Used ended, and my " _relationship_ " with Bert was put on " _hiatus_."  The world was now looking at us with high expectations.  To us, this only meant one thing.  _'It's time to make a new album._ '  So, we started the album that still means the most to me, in irony, _"Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge_."  It was truly the perfect follow up to our first, " _I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love,_ " not that we really needed one.  That album, _alone_ , got us _here_.  Then again, it's not that hard to get accepted into _Hell_.  All I had to do was _sin_ , and I've _always_ been the best at that.  _Even before Mikey_.  Anyways, " _Revenge_ " was supposed to be our _perfect_ creation.  "An unfinished horror movie," was what the guys called it.  I called it " _life_."  Either way, the album went in a different direction.

 In the once beautiful November of 2003, our _Helena_ died.  We were in the self proclaimed "City of Angels," Los Angeles, at the time.  It was for a photo shoot, something we didn't even want to do.  It's silly, everyone always thinks that I was meant for the camera, that I was selfish for the lens.  I fuckin' hate the lens, and everything behind it, but I could never hate it as much as I hate the thing that stands in front of it.  _Me._ I'm sorry, I seem to have found myself procrastinating again.  Anyways, our dearly beloved grandmother had passed, and we hadn't even see her off.  It was one of our manager's, Brian, biggest mistakes, really.  He kept postponing our yearly trip to New Jersey.  I still resent him for it.  The second he had gotten work of her death, he canceled all photo shoots and tour dates.  It's too bad he hadn't done that sooner.  Immediately, we flew to NJ, where we were welcomed by fans, all dressed in black out of respect for the dead, holding up signs that said stupid things like "Hometown Heroes."  We were _nothing_.

Over all, the funeral was the worst part.  _She_ would not have wanted it to be the way it was.  She never liked being a downer.  In fact, she didn't even show up!  Instead, she send for a _replacement_.  A corpse by the name of _Elena_ _Lee_ _Rush_.  A woman who looked and lived like _Helena_ , but had no soul in her body.  It wasn't until we carried out her... _the_ coffin that I realized this.  As we put her inside of the hearse, I looked in.  Mikey, who was standing beside me, looked in as well.

He whispered to her words I could barely understand.  " _So long, and good night,_ my sweet _Helena_."  He looked at me, no, not _him_ , but the _old_ Mikey, _the real Mikey_.  Standing in front of me was the Mikey who used to to share a room with me, who used to draw comics with me, who used to watch bad sci-fi movies with me when I was depressed after a hard day at school, who used to pester me to go trick-or-treating with him every year.  In front of me, for the for the first time in months, was the man I fell in love with.  I actually saw the real him, and mix of beauty, innocence, weakness, depression, and above all, _sobriety_.

As we stood there, I looked at the Mikey I had thought I lost.  It was then I realized that Mikey was never _lost_ , never _gone_.  He was just _hiding_.  Hiding under the unstable exterior that I had put out for him.  _Hiding_... _from me_.

"After all that's happened...all that's happening, _I'd like to...I wanna apologize_."  I meant what I said to Mikey.  I meant it more than anything, but apparently he thought I was talking to _her_.

"Gee, don't apologize to her, _you_ were always her favorite.  She's always been proud of you.  She wanted you to sing and draw, to become something.  She _knew_ you were _special_.  If anything, _I_ should be apologizing...."

It destroyed me to see him so ashamed of himself.  Always feeling that he was worthless, just because of me.  "I wasn't talking to her, Mikes.  I was talking to you...I jus--I want to be brothers again...."

" _Don't play this game with me, Gerard_."  He looked genuinely hurt as he tried to walk away.

All he wanted was to leave things the way they were.  Sometimes, I wish I would have let him run away.  It would have been better for the both of us.  However, my stupidity could never have let that happen.  Unfortunately, and unknowingly, I grabbed his arm.

**\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Hey guys! It's been so long since I updated (sorry).**

**It's just that I've had family over and they don't know about my secret fanfiction writing life...also, school's a bitch.**

**I'm sorry I left you hanging for so long!**

**I'll be back sooner next time, I promise!**

**< 3 Charr**

 

**Author's Note:**

> So what do ya think? plz leave a comment, even if it's bad...I need to know whether to continue or not
> 
> <3 Charr


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